


Programmed to Receive

by dragonlandsandyaoihands



Series: Mad Blood Stirring [13]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Artificial Intelligence, Bottom Keith (Voltron), But mostly fluff, Depression, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Omega Lance (Voltron), Oral Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Lance (Voltron), shiro is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 07:39:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18311156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlandsandyaoihands/pseuds/dragonlandsandyaoihands
Summary: Distressed from Shiro's death and ready to take his own life, Keith stops for the night at the Hotel California. The hotel is more than ready to cater to his every whim. He'd planned to spend one more day on Earth and he'd be damned if it wouldn't be a good one. Turns out Chiron moonlights as a cabbie.





	Programmed to Receive

**Author's Note:**

> First MBS fic not named after a line from Shakespeare! But I'd like to think that he'd have enjoyed being in company with The Eagles :)

Keith appreciated the driver’s acceptance of silence. There was nothing worse than a cabbie who wanted to converse and wasn’t deterred by Keith’s growled, monosyllabic answers. The guy hadn’t questioned Keith’s gruff order to drive to an out of the way hotel or the lack of any luggage. Not even so much as a backpack. In fact, all Keith owned was the ID and debit card in his back pocket, the knife strapped to his back, and the clothes on his back. He’d toyed with keeping a phone, but figured that there was no point. Keith had done research; hired a lawyer and drawn up a will, leaving his modest earnings to a local animal shelter. No family and his only friend was now deceased, apparently due to ‘pilot error’. Keith thought it was unlikely, but even if he could prove another reason, it wouldn’t bring Shiro back. Nothing to lose or to gain. He’d finally left his run down apartment behind, come back to the city he was born in. Hardly mattered. He’d be dead by midnight the next evening. 

He glanced out the window at the passing scenery. It was pretty dark, so there wasn’t much he could see besides the flashing passes of huge lights illuminating the endless highway. A whole lot of flat nothing except for the occasional building to break up the monotony. Keith had been shuttled out of Texas soon after his father had died and hadn’t returned since. He’d planned to visit later in the year with Shiro, maybe try and find his father’s grave. Shiro had wanted him to come; it was the only reason he was there and not already dead. That, and killing himself in his dingy neighborhood in New York had seemed really depressing. The city had been convenient for finding work and staying near Shiro, but a part of Keith missed the wide open spaces of his early years. Something about watching the sun set over a desert, like a fantasy cowboy, called to him. Nostalgia, possibly. It wouldn’t matter in the end where Keith chose to end his life, but he had to do this. Shiro wouldn’t have wanted him to die, would have told him to give life another chance. To be patient. 

Keith wasn’t a patient man. He’d come to Texas with the intention of giving life a single day as a second chance. It wasn’t what Shiro meant and he knew it, but he was so _numb_ and detached from the world that he didn’t honestly think that he could manage much more. One more day. The knife pressed uncomfortably into his back when the driver suddenly changed lanes and he relished the sensation. Keith didn’t recognize the exit the driver took, or the roads leading up to the hotel, but he’d been gone for years so he wasn’t surprised. 

The hotel itself had been something of a godsend, if Keith believed in those. It didn’t look like anything special, and had gotten pretty mixed reviews on Yelp, (stuff about overly aggressive marketing and trying to persuade customers to extend their stay, though Keith had assumed all hotels did that), but it couldn’t be more conveniently located. His father’s old shack had been nearby, (Keith assumed it had been bought up and demolished since then), but he remembered a canyon that he used to hike to with his father. They’d sit together on a huge rock and watch the stars together. He didn’t really know what he’d do during the day, but he wouldn’t mind ending it looking up at the galaxy, away from all the city lights. 

Keith’s stomach rumbled and he grimaced. He hoped that, if the dining room wasn’t open this late, they’d have some leftovers he could buy. Even the most negative online reviews had still begrudgingly praised the hotel’s culinary excellency. Up ahead in the distance, Keith saw a flickering neon light. For a confusing moment, his head suddenly grew extraordinarily heavy and his sight dimmed. He shook it a few times, flicking his hair across his face and blinking rapidly. The driver announced that they were there and Keith was just grateful that he could stop for the night. He glanced up at the buzzing sign, but didn’t have the energy to snort at the hotel’s name. He yawned and exited the car, slamming the door behind him. The place itself was oddly secluded and the adobe outside made the whole place look like an old Spanish mission. Normally, Keith didn’t notice architectural styles, but it lent itself well to his vague cowboy fantasy. The heavy wooden door swung open before Keith had a chance to touch it. 

A beautiful woman stood in the doorway and smiled down at Keith. She was almost unimaginably tall and in an old-fashioned, long nightgown. He frowned at her, bewildered. She tilted her head, causing a long cascade of silver hair to fall down her dark shoulders. 

“Welcome to the Hotel California. Please follow me.”

She turned away before he had a chance to respond and Keith followed with some trepidation. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering over the interior as the woman led him to the reception desk, carrying a _candlestick_ of all things. The whole place was dark, and the flame cast creepy shadows on the walls, so maybe a power outage, but what kind of place didn’t have flashlights? Keith shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Please excuse the lack of light. We like to conserve energy whenever possible so we use only the bare minimum during the off-season. You have picked a wonderful time to visit though; not needing to worry about other visitors cluttering up everything!”

Keith coughed, finding it difficult to believe that the place was ever particularly crowded, on or off season. 

“Well, I’m only staying for tonight and tomorrow night. Here’s my ID and card, it’s under the name Keith Kogane.”

“Of course, Mr. Kogane.”

To his consternation, she placed the candle on the counter and rapidly entered his information into a ledger. Shit, she hadn’t been kidding about conserving energy then. He wondered if he’d have to deal with the entire place having no power for the next day. 

“Please sign here and I’ll give you your key and show you to your room.”

Nodding quickly, Keith snatched the pen and signed his name with a flourish. He saw that the last visitor had left over a month ago. How did the place stay in business?

“Thank you. Here is your key. Please follow me.”

She came around the desk and held out a polished metal key, like something out of a medieval picture book. Too tired to be surprised anymore, Keith accepted it politely. She led him down some corridors, twisting around the turns with the deft accuracy of someone who’d walked the hallways frequently. Keith prayed that the room would have a hotel map. If he’d been less weary, he might have thought to question the apparent huge indoor size of the hotel compared to its modest outdoor size. 

“So, uh, is there power in my room?”

“Yes, of course. Guests need not worry about conserving power. It is our pleasure to see to all of your needs. My name is Allura, by the way. The phone in your room has a button to call the front desk which will put you in touch with me.”

Abruptly, she turned on her heel and stopped in front of one of the looming, dark wooden doors. A strange noise, like voices down the corridor, echoed and Keith shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He swallowed and pointedly ignored it, murmuring his thanks when Allura flicked on the lights in his room and handed the key over. He glanced inside and his eyebrows shot up his forehead. His mouth dropped open. 

The whole place was tiled white adobe and it was a suite; separate sitting room and bedroom. He wandered over the threshold and peered around the arch leading into the bedroom and marveled at the cozy carved fireplace next to the bed, complete with pops of green hanging plants on the wall. Charming reddish pots with black etchings decorated the corners. Even the ceiling had delicate terra cotta tiles creating the transition between sitting room and bedroom. He felt a wave of exhaustion at the sight of the canopied, decadent bed, laden with more pillows and soft looking blankets then he’d ever need. The sheets were even turned down. A wooden tray sat on the bedside table with a tasteful flower and some complimentary supplies. If he’d been in rut, he’d be _desperate_ to nest in it, get it all ready for his mate. Set up the pillows and blankets perfectly…If he had a mate. Instead of being a lone wolf, broken and unable to maintain a relationship with more than one person who was now dead. Keith sneered at his pathetic thoughts and clenched his fists. 

Seemingly ignorant of his bittersweet expressions, Allura bustled inside, pointing out the telephone by the bed and indicating the menu on the iPad for the restaurant which was apparently open at all hours and which he should feel free to peruse when she left. He snapped out of his daze long enough to question her.

“How did you know I was hungry?”

Allura cocked her head inquisitively. A droplet of wax rolled down her candle. Distractedly, Keith noticed that, even though it had been burning the entire time, it hadn’t gotten any shorter.

“Most guests are when they check in. You’ve traveled quite far and that takes a lot out of people.”

Keith supposed that made sense. He didn’t know why he’d even asked. His eyes drifted to the bedside table and the discreetly displayed lubricant and condoms. He’d obviously been given some kind of honeymoon suite. He blushed and broke Allura’s gaze.

“Are you…sure this is my room? I didn’t pay that much.”

“Yes, quite sure. Now, the internet password is written on the notepad over there and the iPad also has the menu of spa services offered, if you’re interested in booking any of them. Our masseuse will be available when you wake up tomorrow to attend to anything you’d like, along with all of our specialized technicians. One of our other specialists is already scheduled to visit you tomorrow after breakfast.”

“Oh-no, no, that’s okay, it’s fine-“

“It’s our pleasure. All visitors get a complimentary session and meals are included with the all-inclusive package you booked.”

“I just booked a room for two nights. It wasn’t any kind of _package-_ “

Allura huffed and strode over to the iPad. She rapidly logged on with a few swipes, her long, lacquered nails clacking gently against the screen. She finally rotated it to face him. 

“As you can see, Mr. Keith Kogane is booked in the all-inclusive guest package.”

Sure enough, he was. He frowned heavily at the entry. He was almost sure that he hadn’t done that, but he hadn’t been thinking straight for weeks. It was entirely possible that he’d clicked on the cheapest option and, given the auspicious lack of customers, Hotel California might have a special discount for the package during the off-season. He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. Allura’s stern expression softened and she offered him the iPad.

“Why don’t you keep this and I’ll put in an order for some chocolate chip cookies and warm green tea, hmm? It should be up in about fifteen to twenty minutes. There’s a nice robe and slippers in the wardrobe that you can use to get cozy.”

Keith nodded and mindlessly accepted the device, replacing it on the bedside table while Allura quietly closed the door on her way out. It was only after she had left that he questioned the odd order. It was ridiculous. There was _no way_ she could have known that cookies and tea were his favorite midnight snack growing up; one he always shared with his father and, later, Shiro, when he’d fall asleep on Shiro’s couch. Both men had teased him for the strange combination, but Keith shrugged off their playful words. The same way he shrugged off Allura’s accurate guess for his culinary preferences at o-dark thirty. He undressed slowly, debating the merits of wearing the robe. Keith wasn’t normally a robe sort of person, (he was always too hot), but, he reasoned, someone would be coming to deliver the food and he didn’t own any pyjamas anymore. That was before he saw the actual robe. It was like sliding into a plush heaven. The hotel hadn’t gotten the memo about cheap terrycloth offerings, oh no, it was fluffy, black, and magnificent. Keith shoved his feet in the matching slippers and idly resolved to wear them for as much of the next day as possible. 

He was still admiring the texture when a few knocks sounded in quick succession. However, when he opened the door, no one waited outside. There was a large plate filled with cookies and a steaming mug on a folding tray. A rapid glance up and down the hallway revealed no one. Unless they’d sprinted after knocking and had ducked into a room, Keith had no idea how someone could have gone unnoticed in the long, straight corridor when he’d answered the door so promptly, but that was a mystery he was too tired to solve. He brought the tray inside and scarfed down the cookies, barely taking the time to let the tea cool before slugging it down. At that point, the exhaustion had kicked in and he crawled into the pile of pillows and blankets without taking the time to arrange them properly. Or turn off the light. However, within minutes of him falling asleep, the light kindly extinguished itself. Additionally, the hotel adjusted the thermostat so that Keith slept comfortably throughout the night.

When he blearily blinked his eyes open the next moments, he had the fleeting impression that something had disturbed his otherwise fabulous night’s sleep. It had sounded like voices down the corridor, but he wasn’t sure what he’d heard them say. Whatever. He yawned and stretched, disregarding the nighttime incident as some other poor sap who checked in even later than he had. He spent a minimal amount of time in the bathroom, grateful for the toothbrush and paste they’d provided. Once freshened up, he peered behind himself in the mirror debating whether the robe was long enough to consider ‘decent’ so he wouldn’t have to put on his clothes from the day before. Then he snorted at how ridiculous it was to be considerate of the hotel staff over such a dumb thing on his very last day. He stuck out his tongue at his reflection for a moment before pocketing the door key and heading out, intent on finding breakfast. 

After getting lost and wandering in circles for an unknown period of time, Keith finally groaned in frustration and threw up his hands. Miraculously, a large muscled woman wearing a smart maid’s outfit came out of a room, pushing a large cart full of fresh sheets and towels. She swerved deftly around Keith and offered him a kind smile. 

“If you’re looking for the dining room, I suggest going straight down that way past two hallways and then turning left. Our chef’s food is delicious and I highly recommend it.”

Keith flushed lightly at his incompetence and thanked her quickly. His stomach grumbled as he followed her directions and, even before he took the final left, he could smell the amazing scents of sizzling eggs and crispy toast. By the time he reached the dining room, his mouth watered at the spread. An enormous, dark skin man grinned brightly at Keith from behind the buffet table. 

“Good morning! Please feel free to seat yourself!”

Keith took the nearest table, noting that no one else was present. For a second he felt uneasy about being the only one, but then he remembered how late the other newcomers had arrived and he didn’t blame them for sleeping through the meal. As he strolled over to the food with his plate, the chef asked for his drink order.

“Uh, just some coffee please.”

The man smiled brightly and hummed something unintelligible to himself as he retrieved a mug and filled it. Keith busied himself taking a couple of perfectly fried eggs, a cinnamon roll, and a generous helping of bacon. Normally, Keith contented himself with a bowl of cereal, (assuming his milk hadn’t gone off), or some toast, but this was a breakfast for champions and everything tasted _fantastic._ Even the coffee, which the chef had somehow been able to add the right amount of sugar and cream without Keith’s input. He chalked it up to experience in the service industry. Not surprising that Keith’s coffee preferences were the same as many others. After nearly gorging himself, Keith sat back with a sigh, rolling his head to crack his neck in satisfaction. The man came around to clear his place.

“Your appointment is in about 10 minutes. If you go through this archway, and pass the reception desk, the third door on the right will be open. Dr. Holt is expecting you.”

“Oh, that’s the, uh, complimentary thing? Yeah, okay.”

Keith had no idea that massage people were so highly educated. Doctor Holt? Definitely seemed like overkill. Maybe they got guests with physical disabilities who needed professional massage therapy? But why would anyone book that kind of service at a _hotel?_ The economy wasn’t great and the job market was completely saturated, sure, but Keith didn’t think that new doctors often ended up working at hotels. He shrugged as he pushed in his chair and ambled in that direction. If it was weird or he didn’t like it, he could politely leave; he wasn’t trapped or anything. The receptionist desk had a small sign on the top, alerting a guest that the receptionist had stepped out for a moment, but would return soon, with a happy face. Once Keith found the correct door, he knocked lightly.

“Please come in.”

Keith opened the door and walked in hesitantly. What he saw inside only confused him more. Instead of any kind of spa or massage table, there was a sparse office. A tiny woman with glasses that nearly obscured her face sat, typing rapidly on a computer. She gestured at the couch against the back wall without looking up and Keith sat, tapping his fingers on his knee. She didn’t make him wait for more than a few seconds. She peered at him curiously.

“I’m Dr. Holt. I am licensed as a psychiatrist and, at no charge to yourself, am here to help you work through some issues.”

“Excuse me?”

“Obviously, the most important thing to address are the tendencies towards self-harm. Or, rather, that’s the most time-sensitive aspect of our session. Deep-rooted issues are clearly the cause, and those cannot be solved in a single discussion, but I’d like to work with you to brainstorm alternative strategies for times when you’re overwhelmed. Outlets for these situations that don’t involve you getting hurt.”

Keith stood abruptly, his mind whirling.

“What the fuck? Fuck you! What the shit is going on? How do you even know-no! That’s not the point! What gives you the right to interfere like this? To invade my privacy? Jesus, fuck this. No way.”

The psychiatrist called after him as Keith stormed out the doorway, utterly furious. He marched up to the receptionist desk, still missing the day person, and banged his fist on the wood, shouting for some service. Dr. Holt rushed after him in a flurry from the office, holding her hands up in a placating manner.

“Please wait. I don’t understand the source of your confusion, but I can answer any question you have! Please, try to calm down.”

Keith spun on his heel about to roar at her, but she flinched slightly and he caught himself. Woah. Okay. Good going man. He took a few deep breaths, anxiously rubbing a thumb over his curled fingers, willing himself to relax and evaluate. He was standing in a reception hall of a hotel, clad only in a robe and slippers, screaming at a tiny woman and about to cause some property damage. Not a good start to the morning.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just really confused. You probably think I’m a crazy person now…”

The doctor smiled a little.

“I don’t, actually. You might be interested to know that I’ve treated a large amount of patients, but very few of them were actually _crazy,_ so to speak. Why don’t we come sit down and try this again? I’m sorry for bulldozing into a delicate conversation.”

“I don’t think-“

“We don’t have to talk about that! You’ve got questions and I’ve got answers. It’s a win-win, right?”

Keith continued to breathe slowly as he followed the woman back into her office and reluctantly retook his seat on the couch. 

“This is a very special kind of hotel, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. We are staffed entirely by an artificial intelligence, which allows us to give each guest a completely personalized experience and accommodate all of their unique needs.”

Keith’s fists clenched again, involuntarily.

“Wait you’re not even _real?_ None of you are- whatever. I can’t… So my thing was a session with a shrink? Yeah, no thanks. I’m not interested in getting help or whatever bullshit. No offense. I don’t think this is the place for me. Can you manifest the receptionist so I can check out?”

Dr. Holt looked mildly alarmed.

“That’s kind of rash isn’t it? I mean, we do our best to anticipate our guests’ needs, but we can’t always be right. This is good, we need constructive criticism to improve. But, I don’t think you need to escalate so quickly.”

“You can keep the money I paid for tonight too, I won’t ask for a refund-“

“It’s not about the money! Just give us a moment, we can run a quick scan and adjust our program-“

Keith stood up again, not caring at the increasingly panicked expression on the shrink’s face. Since he’d learned that she wasn’t a person, just a manifestation of the hotel’s mainframe or whatever, he wasn’t as worried about offending her. He marched towards the door.

“I’m leaving, okay? I don’t want to be scanned.”

He grabbed the handle, intending to yank the door open. But the handle simply jiggled slightly. Keith ground his teeth and tried again. The door was locked. He spun around, in a rage.

“ _You locked the door?_ What the fuck are you playing at?”

Dr. Holt stared back at him grimly and adjusted her glasses. 

“I’m sorry if you feel we have violated your privacy, but I must ask that you stay here until you calm down and think rationally. You are a danger to yourself and we can’t allow you to harm yourself. We guarantee the safety of our guests.”

“Then let me check out! I won’t be a guest! You won’t be responsible for me!”

He banged on the door and shouted, aware of the futility of his actions. Dr. Holt simply sighed and shook her head. Keith paced the room, breathing heavily. He eyed the psychiatrist and her surroundings. He tried taking a swing at her desk, to get her attention again.

“Let me out of here!”

Her image flickered briefly and Keith stumbled backwards. It was the _freakiest_ thing he’d ever seen. His breathing sped up; he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs. Before then, panic hadn’t truly set in. He tripped over his own feet and landed heavily on the couch with an oomph. 

“Please remain seated. It’s for your own safety.”

Dr. Holt looked at him with a pleading expression and Keith wanted nothing more than to lunge across the office at her. As he tried to surge to his feet, however, dark spots began appearing in the edges of his vision. 

“What-what’s going on? Why can’t I breathe?”

Dr. Holt stood and circled her desk, crouching in front of Keith. He flinched away from her and she raised her hands apologetically.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Put your head between your knees. We need to get more blood to your brain. I know it’s difficult, but try to slow your breathing down. Damn, I really thought we were going to be able to make some progress today…”

He obeyed her instructions with some hesitancy, though he probably wasn’t intended to hear her last statement.

“What’s happening?”

“The hotel, I mean, we’re worried. We obviously made a mistake with the therapist idea and you got so agitated…we didn’t want you to hurt yourself. We just adjusted the ventilation slightly, to help you calm down.”

Keith’s stomach roiled at the idea that he was _trapped._

“If you’re so scared of me, then let me leave!”

“We’re not scared of you. There isn't anything that you can do to harm us. We’re scared _for_ you. We want to make sure you enjoy your stay and we’ve clearly gotten off to a bad start, but we think that we can turn this around.”

Suddenly, Keith realized how ridiculous the whole situation was. The hotel didn’t want him to check out, but they hadn’t confiscated his knife. It didn’t matter if he was trapped there; he only planned on being alive for today. They could trap him or try again at guest relations all they wanted. _It didn’t matter._ He was in charge of his fate and no hotel, however smart, could stop him. He felt his heart rate calm and his breathing even out. Dr. Holt smiled at him tentatively.

“I think the right thing for you is to have a good, stress-free day. And, I’m happy to say, I know just the person for you. He can be a little annoying at first, but he just wants somebody to love and have fun with.”

Keith narrowed his eyes at her. The hotel was creepy, but he couldn’t deny that it was enthusiastic about meeting its customers’ needs. He shifted against the couch again, comforting himself with the weight of his knife digging into his back. He was the one in control. The hotel was just guessing at what would be good for him and he hoped that the second attempt would go better than the first, but, if it didn’t, he had an out. A small part of him was actually curious about the next hotel personality he’d meet. A large aspect of Keith’s life had been his extreme loneliness and meeting someone who understood that, even if they weren’t real, might be enough common ground for enjoyable company. Keith couldn’t deny that he’d secretly loved reading books where characters had done painfully romantic gestures. The few pathetic attempts at relationships were never with anyone who was interested in that sort of thing, but Keith would have been too ashamed to ask anyway. 

Eventually he nodded at the shrink and stood up shakily. As soon as he did so, there was an obnoxious series of knocks at the door. Keith jumped and whirled around, but the door remained closed. The psychiatrist rose from the ground and puttered over to her desk, waving nonchalantly at the door.

“That’s him. Feel free to answer; it’s for you after all.”

He stood on shaky legs and swung the door open wide, noting with detached amusement that it wasn’t locked anymore. The omega standing before him was nothing short of breath taking. What had he expected? The hotel had obviously produced the man of his dreams. Keith wondered if that extended beyond looks, to personality and desires in the bedroom. He saw no reason why it wouldn’t. It was the opportunity of a lifetime; Keith’s own fantasies weren’t considered mainstream and were actually frowned on by some people. A lot of people weren’t comfortable with the idea of a big strong alpha wanting to be dominated by a sensitive, fragile omega, but Keith couldn’t think of anything more appealing. 

“Hey there handsome. I’m Lance, and I’ll be taking care of you today.”

Lance flashed finger guns in Keith’s direction and bounced his eyebrows comically up and down his face. Okay…so maybe the hotel wasn’t _entirely_ a mind-reader. Keith would have preferred someone a little more suave. But he could work with it. The artificial intelligence probably guessed that he’d be intimidated by the perfect man and wanted to make someone slightly more believable. He couldn’t fault that logic, not when he still got someone lithe, but muscled, with dark brown skin that looked very smooth. An expressive face, still wiggling those ridiculous eyebrows above unnaturally blue eyes. Keith gave him a once over like a man starved and Lance preened at the attention. Then he shook his finger.

“Ah, ah! I am a gentleman and we’ll have none of _that_ now. Or, not yet at least. Come on! I’ve got lots of things planned for us! We’re going to have tons of fun!”

Keith licked his lips nervously and turned away, remembering his situation. Thirsty was one thing, but he couldn’t forget what had sparked all of it in the first place. He saw Dr. Holt over his shoulder, back to typing on her computer and seemingly ignoring the scene in the doorway. 

“Having fun is one thing, but I don’t need anyone to ‘take care of’ me. I know you think I’m completely incompetent and a danger to myself, but that doesn’t mean I want a fucking babysitter.”

Lance flapped his hand in a dismissive motion.

“I am _not_ here to be your babysitter, trust me. That’s both weird and creepy. My mission, should you choose to accept it, is to provide you a day full of entertainment. If it makes you feel any better, my plans feature such sordid activities as watching movies, swimming in the pool, a candlelit dinner, and maybe some of George Michael’s best. I mean, it’s your call.”

Lance held out a hand and Keith pretended to think the offer over. He wasn’t being locked in a room and he’d make sure to keep an eye out for any potential traps. He was pretty sure the hotel wouldn’t try any more funny business, considering how he could just _leave_ once his paid for stay expired. No way the hotel, no matter how insane, would want to keep him once the money ran out. Lance’s eyes twinkled with amusement the longer Keith took to answer. He finally heaved out a sigh and placed his hand in Lance’s. 

Lance tugged him out of the room, his excitement palpable in the air as the sweet scent of happy omega reached Keith’s nose. He smiled unconsciously, unable to resist the smell. To him, it evoked a faint memory of visiting the beach, suncream and salt on the breeze. Keith allowed himself to be led to what Lance playfully termed ‘The Games Hall’ which turned out to be a long room with the biggest tv Keith had ever seen. While he gawped at it, Lance rifled through some shelves of games and their respective systems, hemming and hawing over which one to play first. 

“I’m thinking…I could kick your ass at Super Smash Bros.”

Keith narrowed his eyes at the contender. 

“Bring it on.”

The initial awkwardness soon faded amongst the rapid button smashing and triumphant yells of the boys. Keith’s prowess as Falco was quickly challenged by Lance’s ability as Zelda and Keith found himself really getting into the game. They played best 2 out of 3 and the only reason Keith won the tie-breaker round was that they’d left the items on and a stray bomb had blown Lance away. He howled as he dropped the controller, complaining that _Keith_ hadn’t really won; it was a technicality! Keith smugly folded his arms.

“Then how about another kind of game? I bet I’ll beat you at it, fair and square!”

They progressed through Mario Kart and some Call of Duty game. Lance and Keith were neck and neck while racing their silly avatars through increasingly difficult terrain, slipping on more and more banana peels and unable to declare a true winner. Even Keith had to admit, though, that Lance’s aim was far superior in the shooting game. Lance easily out-shot Keith, but when Keith finally admitted defeat, they played a couple of rounds were they were teammates and mowed down hordes of zombies together. Whooping, Lance held up his hand for a high-five and Keith returned it with equal amounts of delight. Then he leaned back, setting the controller down, to crack his neck. Lance hummed thoughtfully.

“Yeah I guess we have been sitting here for awhile. How about we do something different?”

“Like a different game?”

Keith’s eyes wandered over to the shelves still full to bursting with titles he could barely read from where he sat, comfortably curled up on an oversized, corduroy beanbag cushion. 

“Nah, this will get the blood pumping. Help work up an appetite for some of Hunk’s gourmet cooking for dinner.”

Keith sat up a bit more, stretching his arms above his head and Lance mimicked the motion, relinquishing his seat altogether. He went so far as to touch his toes and Keith couldn’t decide if he was more impressed by how flexible Lance was or distracted by the way Lance’s jacket and shirt rode up, exposing a tan, sleek back. 

“What do you have in mind?”

Lance popped up immediately.

“One of my favorite things in the world! Swimming! We have swim trunks you can borrow, of course.”

Keith scoffed.

“Yeah, right. Since you know everything about me, I guess you’d know I didn’t bring anything like that.”

“I don’t know _everything_ about you.”

“I thought the hotel did some freaky brain scan shit?”

“Well, sure. But I’m programmed to be someone you’d like and no human wants to be with someone who already knows everything about them. Not really the point, but the hotel didn’t look at, like, what your favorite color is or how your grades were in school. So, even if I knew everything the hotel did, I wouldn’t know all about you. But it didn’t even share much with me because, again, that would be creepy and it’d make for super boring conversation. And I am the best conversationalist AI this place can make! Plus, I want to get to know you, not just have your info downloaded directly into my brain.”

Lance shrugged while Keith tried to parse everything. Lance seemed very proud of his creation and role for the hotel and he was right; it was infinitely less weird to talk to someone who could _learn_ details about you. It was some comfort to know that, invasive as the hotel was, it hadn’t copied everything. His thoughts and memories were still his own, to share or not. That was something, at least. It didn’t lessen the sting when he remembered that the only reason Lance wanted to know him was by being programmed that way, but Keith recognized his own pathetic desperation for contact with someone who’d support and love him. Beggars truly couldn’t be choosers; though some part of him found it ironic that the only one who could satisfy his desire for human contact was a being wholly inhuman. Human enough, though. 

“Sure. Let’s go to the pool.”

Lance lit up with energy, enthusiastically leading Keith away from The Games Hall down an elevator to an underground pool area. He explained on the way that it was always kept warm, both the pool and the area, so that guests could swim any time of year. While Lance chattered on, Keith wondered how Lance managed to swim. He couldn’t be a projection because they’d touched and Lance felt as real as anything. Maybe some kind of robot that was okay to get wet? But even more advanced technology needed some kind of protection. Would Lance have to wear a space suit like an astronaut? (After giving Keith some shorts and the instruction to change, Keith’s curiosity was satisfied when Lance came out in swim trunks of his own.) Keith didn’t want to ask, partially because he didn’t want to inadvertently offend Lance, but also because he didn’t want to break the illusion of going on a date with a cute guy who really _liked_ him. A cute guy who was actually damn hot and half naked now. He was more muscular than your average omega, but he still retained the overall soft look that came with having subtle curves, made more prominent, (and attractive), by their juxtaposition. Then Keith saw the pool area and promptly forgot any existential, Lance-related crisis. 

The only word that came to mind was opulent. The pool was enormous and lavishly tiled. Adjoining rooms advertised a hot tub and a sauna. When he stepped closer, Keith could see that the pool bottom was covered in sparkling blue tiles, decorated with the occasional multi-colored fish. A slight sheen of steam rose from the water, indicating its warmth. He wondered when Lance had had time to start heating such a massive pool? There were underwater lights around the sides which suddenly flickered on when Lance turned off the overhead lights. The pool’s lights made the water an unearthly glowing blue and cast strange shadows on the walls. Keith was so busy admiring the surroundings that he shrieked when Lance canon-balled in and hit him with the splash. 

“I thought we were having a race, Mullet!”

Keith grumbled and walked over to the stairs leading down to the water. He entered the pool like a _sane_ person, pleased at the heat. 

“Yeah, we are. Keep your hair on.”

Once Keith was fully submerged, he took off swimming, leaving Lance to splutter indignantly behind him. Keith laughed and continued to surge forward gleefully. 

“Cheater!”

Despite Lance’s protestations, he ended up winning their races around the pool. His long limbs cut through the water swiftly and he overtook Keith pretty quickly. Keith might have also gotten distracted by how agile Lance was in the water and how ethereal he seemed with the blue highlighting his toned abs, (unusual in an omega, but not unheard of). That admiration faded when Lance began crowing about his ‘amazing victory’. Keith rolled his eyes and unceremoniously dunked Lance. That sparked an all out splash fight which ended eventually in a truce, although Keith didn’t miss how up close and personal Lance got when it had essentially devolved into underwater wrestling. He still felt like a winner. To celebrate, Lance invited him to relax in the hot tub for a little while, before they got dressed for dinner. Keith followed with an amused smile, shaking his head fondly at the guy’s antics.

“After you, Honey~”

Keith walked in and immediately snorted. The still water of the large hot tub billowed steam and the surface had delicate rose petals strewn about. Lance whined.

“No! It’s romantic, come on!”

Keith smiled softly, trying and failing to fight down the flush rising to his cheeks.

“I like it. Just, no one’s ever done something like this for me.”

Lance shuffled in after him and put a hand proudly to his chest, puffing it out.

“That is a _travesty._ I, Lance, resolve to right this wrong and give you as many flowers as physically possible.”

“You’re cute.”

The words fell from Keith’s lips accidentally and he nearly tried to reach out and retrieve them. In his embarrassment, he covered his face. Lance chuckled quietly and they lounged in the hot tub, enjoying the heat on their muscles. Keith hummed and tilted his head back. They sat together in a companionable silence. For the first time all day, it seemed like Lance was content to say nothing. Keith appreciated it. Then his stomach rumbled, loudly enough to disturb whatever peaceful atmosphere they’d established. Lance snickered. 

“Guess we oughtta feed you, huh?”

Keith was loathe to leave the warmth of the water, but he remembered how delicious breakfast had been. He really _had_ worked up quite the appetite with all of the swimming and anything that cook made, (Hunk he thought), sounded amazing right then. He wrapped one of the fluffy towels Lance had procured from nowhere around his shoulders when an unpleasant thought struck him.

“Wait, I don’t have to get fancy for dinner do I?”

“Not unless you want to? I wasn’t planning on anything too elaborate. Just what I wore before, maybe without the hoodie. Hunk’s meals are always of the highest caliber, but he doesn’t expect the diners to be.”

Lance winked and strutted over to the locker room, shaking his ass obnoxiously for Keith’s pleasure. Keith tsked and pretended not to watch. They dried off and changed quickly, (though Lance took _forever_ blow drying his hair which Keith thought was stupid since Lance’s hair wasn’t even very long). When they finally reached the corner before the dining room, Lance stopped them and offered his arm. Keith just stared.

“I’m escorting you to dinner. Jeez, it’s like you’re trying to make it lame.”

“I’m not trying to make it lame! I told you, people don’t _do_ this kind of thing for me.”

“Then stop gawping and being lame!”

“You’re the one who’s lame!”

Keith griped, but he looped his arm through Lance’s anyway and allowed him to lead them in. To his surprise, the area looked significantly different from the casual tables and buffet breakfast that he remembered. Instead, chandeliers he hadn’t noticed before were lit and dangled charmingly from the ceiling above each secluded table. Lovely white cloths had been draped over them and the stools from the morning were replaced with high-backed wooden chairs. Each place setting had a whimsically folded napkin in the shape of a bird or a flower, (Keith wasn’t sure), and a large candle in front of it. Lance steered him towards their table, although Keith would have known it anyway. It was the only table containing a lit candle and, in a lovely pot next to one seat, a tiny bouquet of red flowers blooming from a single cactus waited. Lance even went so far as to pull out the chair for Keith, gesturing grandly at it. 

Keith’s heart sped up in his chest and he blushed heavily, charmed by Lance’s commitment. He sat down as gracefully as possible and Lance unfolded the napkin, laying it over Keith’s lap with a flourish before taking his own seat across the table. It was just large enough to accommodate two people’s meals, but small enough to stay intimate. Lance reached a hand out and Keith took it without thought, giving it a grateful squeeze. Lance gave him some space and opened his menu one-handed, perusing the options though Keith was positive that Lance knew them by heart. Keith tried to calm down and regulate his breathing. The whole day had been a date; had been building up to a romantic dinner, but he hadn’t been ready for this, ready for Lance. For being treated so softly, but not condescendingly. All his life, he’d had to conceal his desire for sweet indulgence because he was born an alpha and alphas were _tough,_ not fragile flowers. Keith didn’t want to make it weird between them so he cast his eyes around for something to make conversation about. His gaze fell on a bizarrely giant, elaborate portrait of a llama. 

“What’s up with the llama?”

“Huh?”

Lance perked up, looking around. Keith pointed at the large picture looming over the wall and Lance chuckled and began to explain enthusiastically.

“Oh! Some people call him Maurice, although I’m not sure if that’s actually his name. He’s our founder.”

“Founder? Like, of the hotel?”

“Yeah! Originally from Peru, the highlands where the Macchu Pichu ruins are, he immigrated here years ago and, well, I guess it’s kind of a long story…”

“Uh, maybe I don’t want to know.”

“It’s super interesting, but yeah, maybe another time. Besides, you haven’t even checked out the menu yet!”

It was true. Keith reluctantly let go of Lance’s hand with a squeeze and retracted his body across the table to open the sleek menu. He’d expected tons of options, but there were surprisingly few meals available and it was all designed as a prix fixe. Luckily, they were all things Keith liked. It seemed like the chef was in a Japanese mood that evening because the meal advertised a miso soup starter, gyoza dumplings for an appetizer, a selection of sushi rolls for the main course, and mochi for dessert. Keith’s mouth began to water. Just as he closed the menu with a snap, Hunk, the man who had greeted him at breakfast appeared at their table.

“Good evening. Can I get you fine gentlemen anything to drink?”

“I wouldn’t mind some hot sake to go with all the incoming sushi. What about you, Keith?”

“How about some wine?”

“We haven’t had that spirit here since, uh,” Hunk laughed, “1969.”

“Oh. Okay, then I’ll take sake as well, but I prefer it cold. And I’d like some hot green tea as well.”

Lance gasped dramatically.

“You _heathen!_ You’ll drink your tea hot, but not the sake?”

“Tea is supposed to be hot!”

“What about iced tea?”

Keith wrinkled his nose at the absurdity.

“That’s the real abomination. Tea should never be cold.”

“Sake should never be cold!”

Hunk grinned and removed the menus while they continued arguing the merits of hot and cold sake and tea. Soon enough, the miso soup and gyoza occupied their attention and any fears Keith might have harbored about having a silent, stilted dinner with Lance had totally evaporated. The guy seemed able to carry on a conversation with little input from Keith himself and kept up the relatively playful tone with ease. They bickered over who got the last gyoza before Lance generously surrendered it to Keith, just to steal one of his salmon rolls off of his plate later in the meal. Keith couldn’t help but fall for a guy who gestured animatedly with his chopsticks while explaining how every Fall Out Boy song had a best word, one which was held by the singer or slurred through varying notes in a single word. It quickly devolved into Lance just singing Patrick Stump’s praises, but Keith didn’t mind. His thoughts wandered to the fact that it was getting late and he knew Hunk would be arriving soon to clear their plates since they were down to the last couple pieces of mochi. Almost without permission, he cut Lance off suddenly.

“I was thinking about visiting my old house. My dad’s old house. Tonight, I mean. Would you want-uh-be able to come with me?”

Lance paused before shaking his head vehemently.

“Seriously? We’re having such a good time! Why would you want to spoil it with that?”

“Well, that was my original plan for tonight…”

Lance reared back and Keith realized that he was actually offended. Guilt and confusion washed over him at the reaction.

“Did I do something wrong? I mean, the hotel is awesome! Is there something you’d prefer? Because we can accommodate it. I don’t want you thinking it isn’t good enough and you need to run off to some _other building._ ”

He spat the last two words like they were poison. Keith shook his head rapidly.

“No! No, there’s nothing wrong, you haven’t done anything wrong! It was something I’d been planning to do already.”

Lance folded his arms petulantly.

“But there’s still so much for us to do! I was thinking we could get changed into something snuggly and then we could watch a movie or two.”

“That sounds good, but-“

“We have Clue. With all of the alternate endings.”

Lance wiggled his eyebrows and Keith couldn’t stop the smile spreading over his face, even if he’d wanted to. 

“Not to mention the fact that dinner isn’t over yet.”

“It kind of is-“

“Nope! No, uh-uh. The meal is over, but the dinner part of the evening isn’t, not until I’ve walked you back to your door like a proper gentleman ought to. Then you can get changed and I’ll take you to my room for movies.”

Keith huffed, but he wasn’t mad. The night was young and he was having more fun than he'd had in years. There was no reason to stop and end it all. He had technically paid for this night as well, so he was entitled to stay for as long as he pleased. Plus, given the hotel’s morning freak-out, Keith might have to wait until he checked out the next morning before he’d be allowed to leave the place anyways. His heart clenched at the idea of saying goodbye to Lance. Sure, he was an illusion, a creation tailored specifically for Keith, but he seemed so _real_. It would hurt, sure, but he could get to the place his father’s shack used to be and put an end to his misery there. He wouldn’t have to bear it for much longer. He took a deep breath and followed Lance up to his room. He smiled and waggled his eyebrows.

“Do I get a goodnight kiss?”

“But I’m just getting changed? I’m going to see you again in a couple of minutes.”

“Well yeah, but I just brought you back to your door after our dinner date. You don’t have to give me one if you don’t want to…”

Lance pouted and Keith rolled his eyes, leaning in to give him a fast peck on the lips. Lance rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets as he grinned triumphantly.

“I’ll be just next door, waiting for you when you’re all nice and cozy~”

Keith shut the door in his face, though he could hear Lance laughing through the door. He sighed and changed into the soft robe from the night before and freshened up a bit in the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of the goofy smile lingering on his lips and purposefully frowned at himself. Artificial intelligence made specifically for Keith or not, Lance’s ego didn’t need the kind of boost that his school-girl crush would give it. Good grief, he was actually _really_ attracted to the guy. He shook his head and tsked at his own stupidity as he pocketed the room key and came out. Knocking quickly on the room next door, he heard a click and a soft call of:

“Come in!”

Finding the door unlocked, Keith gingerly stepped inside. He blinked at the sudden decrease in light and immediately heard the opening bars of Careless Whisper crooning at him from a phone. The soft red glow emitting from it was the only light source in the room, other than the sliver of light coming under the door from the bathroom. Keith’s face fell and his eyes bulged out of his skull at the sight in its entirety. He'd never seen anywhere that actually had mirrors on the ceiling. A bucket was located conveniently next to the bed filled with pink champagne on ice. A couple of fancy glasses sat on a side table. Lance himself lay splayed out over the bed, posed provocatively with the sleeve of his silken robe slipping artfully off of one shoulder. He held a rose grasped delicately between his lips and he narrowed his eyes seductively. Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Did you really think that this set-up was what I wanted? I thought you had hijacked my brain or something.”

“Nah, this is _my_ favorite part of the evening. Don’t I look like a fucking snack?”

Lance winked and Keith pursed his lips. Yes, obviously. Not that he’d say it aloud. Lance preened at Keith’s lack of a denial and stood up in one sinuous movement. He stepped close to Keith and put his arms around Keith’s waist, beginning to sway in time with the cheesy music.

“Dance with me?”

“Fine.”

Keith acted like it was a huge hassle, but he secretly enjoyed the warmth of Lance’s chest pressed to his. Their feet didn’t move, but their hips undulated side to side. 

“Why are we doing this?”

“Eh, it’s different depending on the day. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget.”

“Which one are you?”

“I’m not sure yet. Ask me again tomorrow.”

Keith had a sudden sense of déjà vu, but it passed quickly and he nuzzled into Lance’s neck, pressing a soft kiss to the delicate skin under his chin near his scent glands. He reveled in the scent of a scent, aroused omega and rumbled a pleased noise. Lance hummed happily and spun them in a circle, tugging Keith to topple after him onto the plush bed with an oomph. 

“I thought we were dancing!”

“Yeah but then you started pushing your cold little nose into my neck and it tickled.”

“I’ll show you tickling!”

Keith went for the ribs. Lance yelped in surprise before furrowing his brows and returning the attack, yipping his need for vengeance. Keith redoubled his fingers, but Lance stretched away from him, getting under his arms and causing Keith to falter as he giggled. 

“You’ll never defeat me!”

When it became clear that Keith couldn’t surpass Lance’s superior tickling ability, he decided to try a new strategy. 

“I yield.”

Lance reared back as Keith suddenly went limp beneath him, suspicious of his lack of resistance. Lance squinted at him. Keith’s eyes went hooded and he felt a flush rise from his chest, up his neck, as he felt the heat of Lance’s body laying atop him. He curled his mouth in a small smirk and tilted his head to expose his neck. He’d never admit it, but he’d watched a fair amount of porn in his day and, though most of it featured vulnerable omegas submitting to strong alphas, he’d found a few more niche videos to his taste: seductive omegas dominating receptive alphas. And he _was_ receptive. Lance gave a low whistle as he looked up and down appreciatively at the way Keith’s robe had come slightly undone in the tickle battle. 

“Oh, we’re playing this game now?”

Keith wriggled to make himself more comfortable.

“Only if you want to.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I _definitely_ want to play with this.”

“I’m waiting.”

Lance leaned over, (not wanting to give Keith any cause to become impatient and call the whole thing off), and feathered his lips over Keith’s face and jaw, humming happily at the way Keith allowed him to take control. Keith let his eyelids flutter in pleasure, enjoying the sensation of melting into the pillows and soft blankets beneath them. He opened his mouth, trying to angle their faces together. Lance smiled at the demand, but acquiesced, smoothly sliding his hands under Keith’s robes over his increasingly warm flesh. He kissed Keith deeply, leaving him breathless. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“You _know_ what I want.”

“Maybe I want to hear you say it.”

“Fine. I want you to fucking ravage me.”

Lance widened his eyes in alarm.

“Woah, hold up! Can we clarify here? That’s not what I was expecting, I mean, not anything that’s gonna hurt you right?”

“No, not pain, just, I dunno, dominate me! I just want you to fuck me, Lance, come on!”

“Hey, calm down. I’m all about some good old fashioned debauchery for hedonistic guys, but you never struck me as the type to be down for scary shit.”

“Oh, in the few hours you’ve known me?”

“Don’t be like that, Keith. Come on. Let’s go back to having fun, huh?”

“That’s what I was trying to do!”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. Here, let me make it up to you, okay?”

Keith stuck his lip out petulantly, but allowed Lance to kiss him again. And again, and again, parting the fluffy sides of Keith’s robe until they hung open, displaying Keith’s chest and stomach lewdly. Lance feathered light kisses down the column of Keith’s throat and over his chest, paying extra attention to his pert nipples, reddening slowly. The scent of slick filled Keith’s nose and Lance whined, shifting his legs to straddle one of Keith’s. Keith raised his head and watched as Lance ground down on his thigh and his breath hitched at the wet smear it left behind. Keith instinctively raised a hand to grasp at the curve of Lance’s ass, drawing a moan from the omega, but it was quickly swatted away with a wink.

“Oh no you don’t. Not yet, Baby. We’re gonna need as much slick as I can make so I can fuck you with it.”

Keith gasped at the obscene image of an omega using his own slick to penetrate an alpha and he squirmed needily. Lance teased his way down Keith’s abdomen, dipping his tongue into the grooves of his muscles and hip bones. He sucked a small bruise at the join of Keith’s thigh and Keith tugged on Lance’s hair, trying to urge him where he needed that soft, wet mouth. Lance chuckled darkly and finally obliged, tonguing Keith’s shaft, letting the saliva drip from his lips. Keith tried to buck into his mouth, but Lance pinned him down with more strength than Keith had expected. It was _hot._ Sweat beaded along Keith’s hairline and around his lips as his cock twitched, dribbling precum that Lance swiped with his tongue. Keith whimpered.

“I’ve got you. Relax. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

 It might have been the words or that Lance suddenly swallowed around Keith’s throbbing dick, but either way, he was done for. His ass flexed a few times, held down by the indomitable power of Lance’s hands and he frantically tugged at Lance’s hair, trying to warn him. Lance merely hummed around him, stroked his thighs, and flicked his tongue along the sensitive vein under the head of his cock and Keith’s eyes rolled back. A rush of heat engulfed him and every nerve tingled as he came. Lance didn’t seem to mind how quickly Keith had finished, lapping at his cock contentedly until Keith let out a pathetic noise and gently pushed his face away. He felt like he’d melted into the sheets, barely able to do more than hum happily. Peeking open an eye, he saw Lance’s sides were heaving and his hand pumped behind him, the squelch suddenly audible. Keith swallowed and opened both eyes. He tried to sit up, wanted to touch, wanted to _help,_ but Lance nudged him back down, giving him a rakish grin. 

“Spread your legs wider for me honey, there you go.”

Lance watched lasciviously as Keith obeyed immediately, shoving the comforter farther away and splaying his legs wider, even going so far as to hold them open. He kept his knees bent and Lance took the opportunity to scoop some of the slick out of him and rub it around Keith’s oversensitive hole. He used his dexterous fingers to worship all that pale, milky flesh spread before him and Keith couldn’t decide whether to grind down on the finger sensuously stroking his inner walls or pull away from the heady sensation. His cock was trying desperately to plump up again, despite having emptied so recently. He rocked down uncertainly and Lance responded with guttural encouragement.

“Just like that. There you go. See how nice it feels? I may not be huge, but like this, I’ll be able to go nice and deep. Maybe I can find your special spot, hmm?”

Then a second finger slid inside and Keith jerked back at the stretch and accompanying pain. Lance shushed him tenderly, slowing down the thrusting, but maintaining a steady, inescapable pace. When Keith tried to shimmy up the bed, Lance followed. It changed the angle slightly, pushing Keith’s thighs closer to his chest and allowing Lance’s fingers to sink deeper inside of him. He inhaled sharply as an electric shock of pleasure pulsed in his abdomen. 

“Nng!”

“Right there, huh?”

“Fuck…yeah!”

Lance gently fingered him open with his slick and Keith quietly lost his mind. Writhing and mewling desperately on the bed, Lance finally took pity on him. He draped his calves over his shoulders and leaned down, staring intensely into Keith’s eyes. Keith’s breath caught in his chest and he licked his lips. In his distraction, he didn’t notice Lance lining up his cock until it pushed inside of him, stretching his slippery hole even wider. They moaned in tandem as Lance rolled his hips languidly. The fact that, as an omega, Lance’s dick was pretty small compared to Keith’s didn’t hinder his ability to reach all the places inside that Keith needed. Keith’s hands scrabbled over Lance’s back, petting his skin as he urged him to go faster. With the way the friction on himself from brushing against Lance’s abs on every thrust and how heat pooled alarmingly in his stomach, Keith knew he’d be hard again soon. It wouldn’t last long.

As if sensing his thoughts, and who knows, maybe he did, Lance sped up, rutting into Keith and chasing his pleasure as the blood sang in their veins. Keith’s breaths came out in grunts, barely drowned out by the wanton, wet slap of their thighs as Lance ground into him hard. Lance had pinned Keith’s wrists, but he suddenly yanked backwards, spurting his seed onto Keith’s stomach. Lance keened at the sight of Keith all spread out in front of him. At the sight of Lance cumming, Keith fisted his own, neglected cock, slamming his heels down on the mattress to shove upwards into his hand. Lance shoved a couple of fingers back inside of Keith’s reddened hole and Keith clamped down around them, making some embarrassing noises.

“God, you’re so _cute.”_

Later, he’d deny that those words had pushed him over the edge, but it just so happened that, at that moment, Keith came a second time, flushed and sweating. His heart continued to thrash in his chest and he shifted, trying to catch his breath. Lance laid down next to him after a second, barely giving Keith any time to cool down before snuggling close. Keith’s mouth pulled a moue of disgust, but Lance ignored it. He stroked Keith’s hair gently, alternating between idly detangling sweaty strands and massaging the muscles of Keith’s back.

“This doesn’t have to end, you know.”

Keith grunted.

“Couldn’t you spend one more day here? With me? If you’re planning to die, you’ve done everything to prepare, right? So you don’t have anything else you need to go back for. No rush. And it’ll just be time spent being happy. You deserve as much happiness as you can get, in my humble opinion.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re the hotel and staying longer means more money.”

“That is a hurtful accusation! And one you know isn’t true. Each persona is his or her own personality. We have the same ultimate goal of wanting the hotel to flourish, but we can develop feelings and ideas, goals even, of our own. As long as they don’t conflict with the protecting the building or the business, we can think whatever we want. And I want you, Keith.”

Keith swallowed, his throat oddly dry. He hid his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, unable to maintain eye contact in the face of such open adoration. It wasn’t real; none of it was. But he wanted so badly to keep pretending.

“Stay with me?”

Keith reluctantly agreed, a strange sense of déjà vu coming over him suddenly. The nagging feeling of having forgotten something important. Lance continued to rub a soothing palm between Keith’s shoulder blades. The feeling intensified, spiking into a primal fear, caught between the urge driving him to run for the door and the inherent knowledge that he’d never find the way back. His whole body tensed and Lance’s arms tightened around him. Keith tried to keep his breathing even, rationalizing the weird panic. There was nothing to it and besides, why would he want to return to the place he was before?

“Relax, there’s no harm in another day.” 

That’s right, Keith remembered. Lance continued, “You can check out any time you like.” 

But Keith didn’t want to leave.

  
  
  



End file.
